Yes, she turned out to be a prostitute, well, not in the sense that she sold her body for money, but in the sense that this was her profession.
You know, it's like an "intellectual", it's kind of like not a profession, but at the same time, it's a kind of social status. Same here, just the other way around.
It was clear, for some reason (I later began to reason about this), that she did not work as a waitress, or a queen. Not someone's wife or teacher.
It's like politics, you can always find out without even looking at the documents. So it is with her. I knew right away that she was a prostitute.
No, not because she was available, but rather because she was a professional woman.
Yes, that's a chic term - a professional woman !!!
Free, feminine, sexy and self-aware.
It will not be available to everyone.
But if you're lucky, you'll pay a good price for intimacy with her.
Courtesan, geisha...
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Not only that, she was a vampire who knew Charles 4, yes, the very one who founded Karlovy Vary. And where I was now, I even lived, one might say.
Moreover, she herself told me about the vampire, and almost immediately, apparently in order to stop all sorts of omissions and not waste time. However, she had plenty of time. Well, yes, it's a pity to waste time on something that does not bring pleasure from life.
Even though she didn't have a life. And then what did she have?
She had both a life and a job as a prostitute. And she had a lot more...
But, for sure, you all mean that there is little good in this profession, except for the moment of payment, in fact, labor ...
But she liked her work.
She also told me about this. And also, almost immediately, so as not to ask unnecessary questions ...
Moreover, as it turned out later, this did not last 2-3 weeks, and not 2-3 years, but more than 200 years.
Yes, yes, yes, she sold her body to men and women. Young and old, normal and not so good. And if you say that she saw everything ...
It means not to say anything.
She saw not just everything, she experienced it all on her own body, with her feelings, her sensations.
And you ask, they say - why is it suddenly such a woman, such a creature, suddenly and for no reason, told me, a complete stranger, about her profession and even about her nature. I am sure that most of her close friends and acquaintances do not know about this, but here I am ...
I didn't have an answer. At that moment.
But…
Well, to begin with, our acquaintance did not end with a chance meeting in a cafe near the Colonnade.
Because I was terribly interested in what such a person (after all, she is still a person) thinks about love, after all that she has experienced in her long years ...
But not today, not today...
The fact is that my adventures that day did not end with the fact that I met Angel, who turned out to be a vampire and a prostitute, in Karlovy Vary, in 2020, in the era before the global coronovirus epidemic.
It later turned out that we only had a couple of months left.
And that many will die.
But not today, not today...
And today, she suddenly got up impulsively, took my hand, as a mother takes a small child when she needs to cross the street, and pulled me right under the columns of the Mill Colonnade.
Yes, I completely forgot, she had a name. She had a beautiful name - Hannah. In Russian it sounds like Anna, and in German it sounds like Ann.
I dug into Wikipedia and found out that the biblical meaning of this name is supportive. Whatever it means, but this name, well, very much corresponded to what I saw in front of me. And the one that dragged me now under the vaults of the Mill Colonnade.
Then she put her index finger to her lips. And from that moment on, I really didn't see anything, except for her lips. And she, as it turned out, showed me with a gesture that I was silent.
And I continued to follow her, without taking my hand out of hers, and not seeing anything that was happening around, because in addition to the picture - she was nearby and at arm's length, her scent also appeared.
I am not a great connoisseur of all sorts of names and epithets for smells, but I would recognize this smell from a hundred ...
It was a Moroccan muscat. Maybe it's called something else, but for me it was exactly that - Moroccan. Because it was in Morocco. El Maghreb.
I don't know how to put it into words. Oh right...
Georgy Stenkin has a whole story about El Maghreb. I will look for descriptions there and maybe in this way I will be able to convey the feelings that this fragrance evokes.
Why?
Because it's important. For me, this smell was important and how I interpret its appearance in my life.